


maintenance

by Odyle



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Blue Lily Lily Blue Spoilers, Gen, Skraw Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2891333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odyle/pseuds/Odyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I could buy you a new one,” Mr. Gray said.</p><p>“I like this one,” Blue said. “It has history. <i>Provenance.</i>”</p>
            </blockquote>





	maintenance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [galfridian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/galfridian/gifts).



They took care to cover the kitchen table with newspaper before setting to work. Maura often said the table had character. It had patches of glitter on it from school art projects past, and a burn mark from when Calla had placed a boiling pot of water on the table without thinking to put a trivet beneath it. 

Mr. Gray pulled his tools from a paper bag emblazoned with the name of the local hardware store. He lined them up in a row, in the order that he would use them. 

“I could buy you a new one,” Mr. Gray said.

“I like this one,” Blue said. “It has history. _Provenance._ ” 

He held out his hand. 

Blue pulled the pink switchblade from the pocket of her apron and gave it to him. 

They took their places at the table. Blue had pulled a chair very close to his so that she could watch his process. He had agreed to demonstrate if she would learn. 

“It is very important that you take care of your tools properly,” Mr. Gray said. “For instance, after stabbing people, make sure to wipe your blade clean. Blood will make the spring mechanism rust.”

He flicked the pink switchblade open. The motion was smooth, but there was definite blood on the blade. Mr. Gray turned it over, inspecting it. 

“Next time I’m in a life or death situation, I’ll make sure to stop and wipe it off before fleeing.” 

“No, flee first. As soon as you reach safety, stop and carefully clean the blade,” he said. “For your mother’s sake.” 

Blue snorted and leaned in closer. 

He wiped the blade down with a damp cloth. The blood slowly came off, staining the cloth brown with stale blood. He was gentle with the knife. When he was done, he put the cloth down in favor of a dry cloth. Mr. Gray took his time drying the switchblade until the metal was completely dry. 

“Your weapon is a tool like any other. Take care of it and you won’t blame yourself if it fails,” he said. 

“But you’ll still be dead.” 

He picked up a small bottle of lubricant. After placing a few drops in the space where the blade broke, he worked the blade back and forth to spread the lubricant along the inside mechanism. Mr. Gray talked her through each of the steps, explaining what he was doing and the dire consequences of skipping a step. 

Her mother and the other women in the house had known how to read tea leaves or the right herbal medicine to combat the common cold. They hadn’t taught her useful things like the care and maintenance of switchblades. 

Blue watched him test the mechanism. He closed the blade then flicked it open, paying great attention to the motion. 

“You want to make sure that it opens smoothly,” he explained. “If you have to fumble with it during a fight, well…” 

Blue nodded. 

Mr. Gray wiped down the blade again before he handed it back to Blue. 

“Try it,” he said. 

Blue carefully held the blade over the table, away from anyone or anything. With a flick, she whipped the blade out of the pink handle. 

“Now you’re ready to stab any innocent bystanders you may encounter,” Mr. Gray said. 

“Ha, ha,” Blue said as she closed the blade. Then, “Thank you.” 

Thank you for teaching her to care for the switchblade. Thank you for giving her the switchblade in a roundabout way. Thank you for his help in saving her mother. Thank you for sticking around. Thank you for being. 

Blue did not clarify this statement, but instead slipped the switchblade back into her pocket. 

“You’re welcome,” he said.


End file.
